Total pages in book: 146
Estimated words: 137226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137226 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 686(@200wpm)___ 549(@250wpm)___ 457(@300wpm)
“As are you. So what is your power, Brynla Aihr?”
“I seduce men and rob them,” I answer sweetly, batting my eyelashes. It’s a half-truth.
For the life of me I can’t read the expression on his face, but his eyes are darting everywhere except my chest. I clear my throat. “So what’s so important that you couldn’t wait until after my bath to talk to me?”
“Oh,” he says, scratching at his jaw as he takes a couple of steps closer. “Nothing really. Just wanted to tell you something before I forgot.”
“What?”
“Dinner is in an hour. You’ll be expected to be there.”
“Do all your prisoners have dinner with you?”
“You would be the first.” He pauses as if he’s about to say something else, then shuts his mouth. “I suppose I should, uh, warn you about my father.”
“Is he anything like your uncle?”
“Worse,” he says with a sour smile, and my stomach sinks a little. “He’s not all that enthused about my plan.”
“Ah, at least I’m not the only one. I’ll be sure to tell him that too.”
He stiffens slightly. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”
There’s an edge to his voice that I don’t like.
I swallow uneasily and try to ignore it. “Well, at least I don’t stink anymore,” I say, throwing my arms out.
A chain reaction is unleashed.
Andor suddenly leans in and brushes his nose to my shoulder and inhales.
The feeling of his breath against my bare skin makes my eyes roll back in head.
Sends a shiver rolling through my body.
Which then causes my towel to suddenly unravel, leaving me completely naked, the towel pooled at my feet.
I shriek.
Andor pulls back and meets my eyes, an apologetic twist to his lips.
But then in an instant his eyes drop to my chest. To my stomach. To below.
“Gods!” he swears, quickly spinning around to face away from me while Lemi starts barking, perhaps confused at the panicked way I ungracefully bend over and pick up the towel, holding it to my chest and letting it drape in front of me.
“All right, anyway, dinner in an hour. I’ll send Solla or one of the handmaidens up to get you,” Andor says, talking a mile a minute as he strides over to the door. This is the first time I’ve seen him flustered.
“You smell nice, by the way,” he says before he closes the door.
I look down at Lemi, who is watching me with a tilt of his head.
And I smile.
Chapter 10
Brynla
After the bath incident with Andor, Lemi and I quickly sneak across the hallway. The door is wide open and the wallpaper is yellow floral, so I assume it’s the “yellow room.”
Like the bathroom, it’s grand. Too grand for me. It has the same gilded arches over the windows, though they aren’t stained glass, and a burgundy velvet curtain frames two glass doors that open out onto a stone balcony that overlooks the courtyard below. I decide to look after I have clothes on, just in case I end up flashing some of the Kolbecks or their help.
I focus on getting dressed. On the sprawling bed—the largest I’ve ever seen—are three outfits laid out. Dresses in various shades of pink. I don’t think I’ve ever had anything pink in my whole life. The colors we wear in Esland are dusty grays and browns and olive greens, the better to match the desert scenery. The hooded robes we wore at the convent were heavy and black. Anything with bright or pleasing colors would be seen as an affront to the dragons, as if we were trying to compete with their beauty. Not that I’ve ever seen a pink dragon before.
Solla is roughly my size—neither of us is particularly thin—but I am quite a bit taller than her, so when I slip on the undershirt, the dress sleeves come halfway up my forearm, and the skirt hem hits at the ankle instead of the floor. The neckline is somewhat low with lacy pink ruffles, and the velvet accents on the gown make me feel as if I’m wearing fancy upholstery. I feel silly but it fits well enough.
Then I glance in the mirror and nearly jump. Yes, I definitely look strange with my hair down and the fancy dress, like I’m a child trying on my mother’s clothes, as if my mother was some rich Norlander and not a rebel always scraping by on the outskirts of Lerick.
I start gathering my damp hair and braiding it down my back, looping it around a few times until it’s in a loose bun. There. Now I look a tiny bit more refined.
“What do you think, Lemi?” I ask him.
He tilts his head, pondering. I don’t want to hear his answer.
Knock knock.
“Who is it?” I ask, creeping toward the door.
I hear a muffled reply. “It’s Solla. Do you need any help with your dress?”